Page 29 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“Really?” Reed reached inside his jacket pocket for his wallet. “The way I heard it, your old man wasn’t talking to you, either. Not since you compromised his case.”

Her throat tightened. Heat washed up the back of her neck. But she stared him down. “That was a long time ago, Reed. He got over it.”

“I wouldn’t. Not if you crucified me the way you did your own father. Believe me, I’d never forgive you,” he said as the waitress returned carrying a variety of platters. Reed pulled his gaze from Nikki’s and offered Jo a humorless smile. “I think Miss Gillette neglected to tell you she wanted her pie ‘to go.’”

“Oh.” The girl was suddenly flustered. No doubt she’d heard the tail end of the conversation. “I’m sorry, let me wrap your order up.” Quickly, as if she couldn’t make tracks fast enough, she slid Reed’s platters onto the table and swept the slice of pie back to the kitchen.

Reed turned his attention to Nikki again. “Now, listen to me, Miss Gillette. The only tip I’m giving today is to Jo, for serving me this.” He jabbed a fork at his grits. “I have nothing to say to you but ‘no comment,’ and no matter how many E-mails or voice mails or any kind of messages you leave me, I won’t have anything to say until the department issues a statement, and probably not then. You’ll have to live with what the rest of the reporters in town get.”

She felt her back going up. “You know, Reed,” she said, “I never figured you for sticking to the company line. I thought you had more guts. More class. That you’d form your own opinions.”

“And tell them to you?” he asked, jaw sliding to one side.

“I always heard you were a rogue cop, someone who bent the rules to get to the truth.”

“You heard wrong.”

“Did I?” she challenged. “Why did you go up to Lumpkin County? A detective from Savannah. Were you called in to give your expertise? Or did you have some connection to the place? To the killing? Why you?”

He didn’t answer but there was the tiniest of flickers in his eyes, a shadow slipping quickly through them. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you do.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “Leave it alone, Nikki. This is police business.”

“What the hell happened up on Blood Mountain?”

His lips tightened. “Since you’re here, I have some advice for you.”

“Good. I’m listening.” She flicked a glance at her recorder silently taping the entire conversation.

“The next time you stake out someone’s apartment and tail them, you might be a little more discreet.”

“I guess I should take a lesson on stakeouts from you, right?” she shot back and immediately regretted the dig.

His jaw clamped. His eyes narrowed and he slowly set his fork down with such precision that she knew he was holding back his rage. “This interview is over.”

“It never began.”

“That’s right.” He reached over and pressed a button on the recorder. The tape player clicked off. Reed glared her down.

Jo picked that moment to return with a Styrofoam box. “Here ya go, hon.”

Nikki reached for her purse, but Reed’s hand shot across the table, catching her wrist. Strong fingers tightened. “It’s on me.” As quickly as he’d grabbed her, he let go. Turning to the waitress he managed a needle-thin smile. “Add Miss Gillette’s order to my bill.”

“Will do,” Jo said, her eyes moving quickly to Nikki, then back to Reed. She dropped the receipt onto the table, then turned on her heel and headed for a nearby table where a group of men in hunting coats and hats were settling in.

Nikki tried to backtrack, to salvage some kind of relationship with the man. “Look, Detective Reed, I’m sorry if we got started on the wrong foot.”

“We didn’t get started at all.”

“What is it you dislike about me so?”

“It’s not personal.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It’s your profession. I really don’t like any reporters. Any of ’em. They just get in the way.”

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